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Life ≥ Σ[Π[Choices]]

I’m a notoriously bad decision-maker. Rather, I take a long time to make decisions; I have seen no evidence to suggest that the quality of my decisions is proportional to the time I take to make them. My oft-crippling decision disposition seems less for fear of risk than for craving for verification. “Perfectionism” sounds nice and innocent, but it is a great obstacle to achieving creative goals, and the hand that tries to help in the more concrete matters of truth and logic never ceases to punch in the face those who attempt to engage in social interaction with me. Despite efforts (real or imagined) to live a less calculated and cautious existence, I cannot shake this nature of mine; therefore, I must embrace it.

There are several ways in which I can use this nature to my benefit. Consider a situation that demands repeated discipline over a long period of time. I am the type of person who may not see any instantaneous marginal benefit to performing the action itself, but missing crossing a day off on a calendar, for example, would be hard for me to live with. I can trick myself into doing things to bypass my cost/benefit scale in this way by adding to one side to tip the balance. Tragically, this ploy has been greatly underutilized. Lately, though, it has begun to emerge more and more throughout my thinking on life.

During my employment this summer, I have learned a few things and realized a lot of things. I am beginning to understand the importance of formal organization in all areas of life, particularly of data and ideas. I now use spreadsheets for everything; the rational arrangement of any kind of information, whether consequential or not, gives me a good feeling. Arbitrary locations, numbers, and letters frustrate me. Order and reason are pursued whenever possible. I have realized these things about myself on a higher level, a super-conscious level, and they have changed from suspicions to facts. It’s as real as anything can be.

I now know that in order to complete any of my projects and accomplish any of my personal creative goals, logic is not enough. It really doesn’t matter that in order to accomplish my lifelong dream of creating and performing music full-time I need to write songs. I know this fact and this congizance has not produced any songs on its own, nor has it caused me to write any. Since I cannot drive myself with logic, I must exploit my own weakness: a well-organized spreadsheet. I will do anything that it commands. Before its perfectness I am powerless—powerless, that is, to hold myself back any longer. I’m tired of being my own worst enemy. I’m thinking a huge chart like that guy had on Little Miss Sunshine would be a great idea. Maybe I just won’t speak for the next two years. Yeah, he was quite an inspiration for me.

It must be tremendously liberating always to act on a whim. But are the many euphoric moments worth it in the end? How can one not worry about the future? How can one pretend to expect that things will just work out? How can one not live in fear of being stuck in a job one hates, or even just doesn’t love, for the next 30 years? If I do not prepare now, I know that I am going to run out of time and see my window of opportunity close before my eyes. Maybe I am alone.

Of course I have many other hindrances, and I don’t expect that mere logic and an extra helping of foresight can solve all of life’s complex problems for me. I wouldn’t wish it; enough of life’s whimsy has already been snatched from me as it is. But there are things in life that I cannot bear to leave to chance, and I have to work with what I’ve been given, whether it can be considered a gift or not. I can take some comfort in the words of Dr. John Nash in the movie A Beautiful Mind: “As you will find in multivariable calculus, there is often a number of solutions for any given problem.”

Someone once told me that “life isn’t an equation.” I sometimes secretly wonder if some of us are even members of the same species.

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When one of my tables is having a hard time deciding what to have for dinner, I wonder to myself, "why the deliberation? Is this your final meal on earth?" And then I smile to myself. "oh wesley."

also, clever title.

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